


homin | spaghetti carbonara & alternate realities

by plincess_cho (ai_hao)



Series: Domestic Life | Yunho x Changmin [7]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Author: Ai, Domestic Fluff, Gen, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:50:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9335840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ai_hao/pseuds/plincess_cho
Summary: “Do you ever wish your life had turned out differently?”





	

_“Do you ever wish your life had turned out differently?”_

The question still echoes in Yunho’s mind as he sits on the couch in Changmin’s apartment, pretending to watch TV. Earlier that day, he’d met up with some of his hometown friends who had been in the city for the weekend. They’d all gathered at one of Yunho’s favorite cafes and had spent a lovely morning catching up on each other’s lives and swapping stories from growing up. Yunho had enjoyed the break from rehearsals and had felt himself slipping into dialect more often than not.

His friends had all shared stories of their new lives: of weddings Yunho hadn’t been able to attend; of their new offspring who joined them in Seoul today; of new apartments that they were able to make their own. Yunho had smiled happily with everyone else, pleased to hear that his friends had gone on to accomplish their own dreams, even though they were different from his own.

But then, one of his friends had turned to ask another, “Do you ever wish your life had turned out differently? I mean Seoul is so big and cosmopolitan compared to Gwangju, but you always wanted to live here.”

The other friend had shrugged. “I like Seoul, but it isn’t my home. Coming here, I see that now. I would’ve never been happy so I’m glad that dream was never realized.”

The others had hummed in approval as the same friend turned to Yunho, “What about you? Do you ever wish your life had turned out differently?”

Yunho had simply smiled and offered a simple, “It would have been interesting indeed,” but the words had haunted him all afternoon. As he sits on Changmin’s couch and plays with the fringe on the throw pillow, he still ponders the question.

Yes, it has been hard watching his childhood friends find their spouses and build new lives with them. Yunho’s wanted to be a dad ever since he could remember, but now… that’s a dream that may never be realized. There are some days where the stresses of idol life make him want to explode, and part of him wants to give up this life and move back home for a simpler future. But instead, he’ll simply go to the gym a little early to blow off some steam.

What would his life have been life if he’d stayed in Gwangju? Different, that’s for sure. Would he have found a job as a dancer there, or would he have settled for some menial job that he hated for the rest of his life? Would he have found someone to marry and start a life with? Would he have given his parents the grandchildren they keep hinting at?

A loud noise from the kitchen interrupts Yunho’s reverie. He looks over his shoulder to watch as Changmin dumps what looks to be meat into a pan of hot oil. He watches as Changmin stirs the meat while checking the recipe pulled up on his iPad to ensure he’s following it correctly.

*

After Yunho’s somewhat bittersweet morning, he had called Changmin to see what he was up to on their day off. His first call had gone to voicemail, and Yunho had sighed a bit as he contemplated going back to his own apartment alone. A few moment later, however, his phone had lit up with a new text message from Changmin. _「Just got through at the gym. What’s up?」_

Yunho had texted back a simple, _「Want to grab dinner later?」_

_「I have a new Italian recipe I want to try. You can be my guinea pig.」_

Yunho figured he could manage that.

*

So that’s how he had found himself at Changmin’s apartment, watching television. Changmin had forbade him from setting foot in the kitchen (“Hyung, I want to at least try to make this good”) and banished him to the living room with his thoughts. 

Yunho watches as Changmin adds garlic to the pan of sizzling meat, and his stomach growls as the aroma makes its way over to him. “That smells good,” he calls out encouragingly.

“Hopefully it tastes good,” Changmin replies. He doesn’t sound too optimistic, but Yunho knows that Changmin has always been a pessimist. 

“It will,” Yunho replies. “It always does.”

And he’s right. Twenty minutes later, they’re sitting across from each other with steaming bowls of spaghetti carbonara on the table in front of them. Each tries their hand at twirling their pasta with a fork before giving up and resorting to chopsticks. 

“It’s best when it’s hot,” Changmin reasons.

“Exactly,” Yunho replies, shoving a wad of spaghetti into his mouth. The dish, like most of Changmin’s cooking, is divine. 

They don’t talk much at dinner, which isn’t unusual. They had realized years before that they had known each other too long to make small talk. Instead, they focus on their food and the wine that Kyuhyun had recommended to go with the pasta. 

“You know, if this whole TVXQ doesn’t work out, you could always go to culinary school,” Yunho jokes.

Changmin looks up from his pasta suddenly. “Wha—?” he asks through a mouthful of pasta. “Are you thinking of leaving me?”

“No no,” Yunho replies hurriedly. “It was just a joke.”

“Oh,” Changmin replies and swallows his pasta with a hard gulp. He looks over at Yunho and then says, “ _Oh._ You had lunch with your Gwangju friends.”

Meaning, _you had lunch with your Gwangju friends and now you’re wondering if you made the right choice with your life or if you should have just stayed in Gwangju and lived a normal life like everyone else._

“Yeah,” Yunho replies, sheepishly. 

“How—how was it?” Changmin asks.

“The same,” Yunho replies with a shrug. He pauses. “One friend asked me if I wish my life had turned out differently.”

“Oh,” Changmin says. “And?”

Yunho thinks for a moment. He’s spent all day wrestling with that question, weighing the pros and cons of everything. Some days, you could ask him that question and he would reply with an immediate and final no, but today, he isn’t so sure. He never is sure after meetings like this.

But, as he sits at the dining table in Changmin’s apartment with Changmin, his bandmate, his brother, his other _half,_ sitting across from him, idling nudging his pasta around with his chopsticks, he realizes that if he had stayed in Gwangju, there’s one thing for sure: he would have never met Shim Changmin.

*

“You’re from Gwangju?” Changmin had asked when they’d met for the first time.

Yunho had nodded proudly. “Have you been there?” he’d asked hopefully.

Changmin had just laughed. “Of course not. I’ve never been outside of Seoul.”

The first time Changmin had been to Gwangju was when the two of them drove down during their unexpected hiatus. The entire time Changmin had looked around at _everything,_ taking photo after photo and making notes in his notebook.

“What are you doing?” Yunho had asked. “I didn’t realize you were such a tourist.”

Changmin had brushed him off. “I want to remember everything about this place,” he had replied.

“Why?” Yunho had asked.

Changmin had arched an eyebrow and replied, “Really, hyung? This isn’t just Gwangju, sixth largest city in Korea. This is _Gwangju,_ the place I’ve heard so many stories about ever since I met you. It’s like… I’m seeing a new part of you.”

_Oh.  
_

_*  
_

By now, most people will have prodded Yunho for an answer, but Changmin goes back to eating his pasta. He knows Yunho will answer when he’s good and ready, and lets him be. It’s not until they’ve finished their dinner that Yunho replies, “No. No, I don’t.” And it’s true: he really doesn’t. Sure, there are some things he wishes he could change and some heartaches he wishes he could avoid, but he realizes that nothing in the world is worth giving up what he has right now.

He’s living his dream of being a dancer and singer, he’s able to help his family and those in need with his salary, he’s met amazing friends and amazing people who he’ll never forget, and he has Changmin. And that alone is something that Yunho would never give up.

“Good,” Changmin replies. “Because I think I overcooked the pasta so culinary school isn’t for me.”

Yunho laughs and helps Changmin gather up the dishes. Changmin fills the sink with water and tosses a towel in Yunho’s direction. They stand at the counter, Changmin washing dishes and handing each to Yunho to dry, while the television hums in the background. 

“For the record,” Changmin says, handing Yunho the pasta pot to dry, “I’m glad our lives turned out this way.”

“Yeah,” Yunho replies. “So am I.”

And he means it.


End file.
